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by days4daisy



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, New Asgard, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Porn with Feelings, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-09 19:49:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17413172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: Rocket never had a real home before. After all the years, all the hell, Rocket doesn't mind the idea.





	Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mimosa-supernova (FourCatProductions)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FourCatProductions/gifts).



> It was so fun to match to you, mimosa-supernova! Happy Chocolate Box :)

Thor used to tell Rocket about Asgard. The huge, gold palace. Orchards full of trees and flowers and things. Horizon-spanning mountains and rivers that spilled right off the edge of the horizon. The glittery throne room, the gold-plated armies, the treasure vault. (Rocket loved Thor's stories about the vault the most.) Asgard sounded like a fancy god kind of place. A place Thor belonged in.

An Asgard can’t appear out of nowhere. It’s not like Rocket expects big, snazzy towers and a massive throne hall when the Milano touches down. But, descending the ramp, Rocket can’t help but gawk at how humble New Asgard is. It’s a farm town, harvested stalks rolling over green hills. Simple houses built of wood and stone sprout along the town square.

New Asgard's small population begins to crowd at the mouth of the main path. On first glance, they all look like Thor to Rocket. Too pretty to be human, posture straight and proud even in this bare bones settlement. They built this place stone by stone. Every inch of it is theirs.

This kind of life isn’t for Rocket, but he gets their happiness. After what the universe went through, what could be better than a place to call your own?

“Not exactly a beach resort,” Quill mumbles. Rocket bares his teeth on instinct, but the comment doesn’t pack Quill’s usual punch. The crew follows Rocket out, taking in the sight. They all know the story of New Asgard, what happened with Thanos, how few of Thor's people are alive, and how much this rebirth means. Groot even leaves his game on the ship.

Up in space, it’s easy to put the past in the rearview. Rocket and crew are too busy saving people and stealing shit. They don’t have to stop and think about Thanos and the stones. With the gang, Rocket can be his old self - he gives Quill hell, bitches at Drax, yells at Groot to put the handheld down. But here, that old lump clamps like a fist in Rocket’s throat.

Thor does not wear a crown or a fancy cape when he appears. He isn’t even holding Stormbreaker. Thor’s simple beige tunic is tucked into brown slacks. His boots are dirty, and his hands are bruised and rough from the work that’s had to be done.

But it’s impossible for Thor to look plain, no matter how humble his life. He walks with purpose, no question for anyone who ventures to New Asgard who its leader is. His hair has grown long enough to slope over his forehead. He wears his gold-plated eye guard instead of the fake; somehow it makes him look more like a king.

As Thor approaches, Rocket tips his head curiously. They’re in Thor’s kingdom, bare bones as it is. It’s been over a year since Rocket saw the guy. Should he bow? Greet Thor as 'your highness' in front of his subjects?

“My friend,” Thor says, and he sinks to his knees.

Rocket's breath whooshes out when he's scooped off the ground. Thor's embrace is warm and smells of earth. Rocket's head and heart flood with too many forgotten things. Anger, fear, hope lost and found again. “You look good,” Rocket says. His voice is thick, and his hands shake in Thor’s tunic.

Rocket feels eyes on them. Thor's people can't be used to seeing their king on his knees, especially for some little freak like Rocket. But if Thor feels his kingdom's gaze, he shows no signs of caring. “I’ve missed you,” he says, and he grazes Rocket’s cheek with a kiss. “More than I can say.” The months peel away like bandages over an unhealed wound.

Rocket wants to grab hold of him and never let go. But he lets Thor get up to greet the rest. His boisterous “Tree!” is followed by a laugh and Groot's high-pitched squeal.

Thor is more subdued when he greets Gamora, Drax, Mantis, and Quill. He calls them 'morons' with affection and welcomes them to his home. Anything here is theirs, he says. The offer is so sincere, not even Quill balks.

Rocket scratches fingers under his eye. They come away wet with tears. “Damn it,” he grumbles.

***

Thor’s home in New Asgard is no different from those of his subjects. Its only marker is that it stands at the far end of the town square, alone on its own side block. The evening grows cold, but activity still buzzes through the streets.

Guest quarters have been prepared for Rocket and his crew, along with a simple but filling dinner. Rocket isn't big on veggie stew, but the roots are sweet with a spice Rocket can't name. His questions get pleased smiles but no answers.

Rocket wanders on his own after dinner, the glow from inside fires crossing his path up the square. He didn’t talk to Thor about dropping in tonight. Hell, Rocket hasn't spoken to Thor at all since their embrace. But it doesn’t surprise Rocket to find Thor in his doorway, as if he knew the exact moment when Rocket would appear.

“Careful, Thunder,” Rocket says. “You’ll make a guy feel wanted.” Thor’s chuckle is soft and familiar as he ushers Rocket inside.

Thor’s home is as plain from within as from the outside. There is a wooden desk with scattered papers and a few books. A hearth spreads warm light over a large bed. Stormbreaker sits in a shadowed corner, a monument to what came before.

“I fear it’s to be an early frost,” Thor says.

Rocket joins him in front of the fire. It’s weird, long as they’ve known each other, to be standing for the first time in a place Thor calls home. They were always in quinjets and cruisers, or other people’s kingdoms, hideouts, or bunks. Always on the move, never staying still.

“Are you warm enough?” Thor asks.

So many words want to come out, feelings too big for Rocket to know how to express. They survived so much shit. But now Thor has a new life, his Thanos-killing hammer on the floor like a rusted old trophy.

“I should’ve come sooner,” Rocket says.

“You came when the time was right.” Thor smiles. “You and your crew have had many adventures. I want to hear all about them.”

When Rocket commed Thor and told him to break out the good booze for a visit, he was dying to swap stories with the guy. Rocket wanted to brag about stealing hydrone off Ziad, or saving those Muxxon kids from a volcanic blast. He would tell Thor about everything else they’ve seen too. Communities working together to make things right after Thanos. Rocket planned to impress Thor with his bravery, and bait Thor into telling him all about a king's life. He thought he'd want to hear what it’s like to start a society from scratch. How to build shit, forage for food, so much good stuff.

Now, if it doesn't involve Rocket and Thor together Rocket doesn't want to talk about it. For years, Thor was all Rocket had left. Now that they're together, it seems crazy that Rocket spent a whole year away.

“I believed I would have much to say when we saw each other again.” Thor looks down. “But now that the moment is here-”

“I get it,” Rocket says. It's no surprise that their heads are in the same place.

Thor resumes his one-eyed gaze into the flames. “I’ve missed you,” he says. “It did not strike me how much until you arrived.”

Rocket climbs onto Thor’s bed without asking permission. When Thor joins him, Rocket inches close enough for their legs to touch. “How’s it been a year, man?” he asks.

Thor shakes his head. “I don’t know. There has been much, luckily, to immerse myself in here. So much to build, so much to decide. What traditions to honor, what no longer makes sense with our resources so small. But every night, it feels...wrong somehow. That life continues on after what we’ve faced.”

Rocket knows the feeling. He's shot awake so many nights with a silent scream on his tongue. Weird, small things take Rocket to the bad days. A strong gust of wind, a close-blowing flame, a low arching rainbow after a storm.

Rocket shivers. Thanos will never be gone for good, will he?

“You’re cold,” Thor notes quietly. He starts to stand. “I’ll put another log on.”

Rocket grabs Thor’s fingers before he can move out of reach. He’s right to assume he doesn’t need to say a word.

Thor sinks to one knee, and Rocket gladly tucks close to him. Thor’s hands take up all the real estate on Rocket’s sides. A tremor moves through Rocket, and his breaths burst in Thor’s hair. “I like this,” Rocket says, rubbing his face in the longer strands. “Get sick of it short?”

“Needed a change,” Thor says. He eases Rocket back on the bed and climbs up to join. Rocket is more than happy for the reminder of how big Thor is on top of him. Thor scrubs a hand between Rocket’s ears. The touch would earn anyone else a snap of teeth. For Thor, Rocket lolls his head back, warmth tingling under his fur.

“Rabbit.” Thor looks at him, suddenly serious. “Is this still something you want?”

The question catches Rocket completely off guard. He scowls in disbelief. “Why the hell’s your shirt still on? You’re getting slow.”

There is relief in Thor’s smile as he dutifully peels his tunic off. His body is still impossible to believe, all thick and hard lines. Rocket scratches the air between them, impatient to touch. Thor chuckles and gives in, easing into his hands. “I think of you often,” Thor murmurs to the point of Rocket's ear. Rocket’s waist bobs in reply.

“Mmhm.” Rocket rakes nails down Thor’s chest, and the nipple under Rocket's touch firms without pause. Thor makes a low sound. Rocket feels a stirring between his legs. “You jack off to me is what you’re saying," he quips.

“I have,” Thor admits, but the tongue he traces along Rocket’s ear does not seem ashamed. “Have you thought of me?”

Rocket could drag this out, rile that hot temper, but... “Fuck yeah,” Rocket says. “You’ve ruined sex for me forever, Thunder. Hope you’re happy.”

“I am,” Thor says, smiling. He’s heavy and warm. Rocket digs a hand into Thor’s back.

“May I touch you?” Thor asks, a soft husk to his voice. Rocket has yet to figure out who would say no to Thor, but the guy always asks anyway. The lump returns to Rocket's throat; silently, he nods. His arousal pushes tight against his pants. Thor hums under his breath.

Rocket gasps when Thor forces his leg up without warning. A thick hand drapes over the bulge between his thighs. Thor kneads forward, the heel of his palm grinding down. Rocket bucks and yelps surprise. He wriggles under Thor's fingers.

“Fuck,” Rocket moans, “lemme unzip, man.”

“What was that?” Thor's palm smothers Rocket’s sex and squeezes his balls. Rocket whimpers and jerks into Thor’s fingers. He’s leaking already, right onto his underwear and pants.

Rocket leaves bloody scratches on Thor’s shoulders. “Damn it...” he gasps. “Asshole...”

“Mmm,” Thor agrees. With a simple pinch, he pops Rocket’s pants open. It’s been too long, Rocket isn’t ready for the reminder of how damn huge he is. How easy it is for Thor to draw Rocket’s cock from inside his pants. Thor plucks it between two fingers and smothers him with the barest flick. Rocket groans and hitches forward. Thor purrs in delight. “So wet already, sweet Rabbit! I forgot how quickly touch provokes you.”

“You didn’t forget shit, you jerk,” Rocket growls. Thor’s laugh agrees, he did not forget at all. Rocket writhes, all thanks to two damn fingers. “Want your mouth, Thunder.” His words are starting to slur.

“Soon,” Thor says. The bed shifts when he arches. Rocket does not need to look to know Thor is touching himself.

But of course he looks. Thor has not worked his pants off completely, his brown slacks bunched around his knees. His cock is insane as ever, blushed huge in Thor’s eager fingers. His groan rumbles against Rocket’s ear. Once a tease, always a goddamn tease.

“Want your mouth,” Rocket insists again. He’s rewarded with two pinched fingers around his cock. Rocket’s demand becomes a whimper, and his hips jut up. New wetness dribbles to Thor’s skin. “ _Thor_ ,” Rocket gasps. “It’s been a goddamn year, man, I can’t- not like before- not like-”

Another slow drag, pressure squeezed into the tip. Rocket cries out, body off the mattress. He’s coming, damn it! Coming already, white behind his eyes, leaving claw marks all over Thor’s shoulders. His toes curl, and he grits his teeth with a whine. His stomach is wet, so are Thor’s fingers.

Thor’s appreciative breaths stagger against his ear. Rocket shivers in the aftermath.

“May I taste you?” Thor asks.

Rocket has missed being so strung out that he can’t say his own name. His pants are hooked stupidly around his ankles and soiled with precum. An over-loose weariness settles into his bones, but he doesn’t want to stop feeling, and Thor knows it. Rocket nods permission.

Even with his own slacks still clinging to his legs, Thor is smooth when he moves. His heavy breaths tickle Rocket’s fur all the way down. Rocket is still hard. Even at their most frantic before, Thor had to work Rocket up for a second. After all this time, Rocket’s body is on autopilot.

Rocket catches Thor licking his lips. The flames from the fireplace glint off his eye guard. The look he gives Rocket is a soft, silent promise. Then, with little effort, Thor gathers Rocket’s cock on his tongue.

Rocket grabs a fist full of Thor's hair. He can’t take a full breath, it hitches on his tongue. The sound of Thor going down on him is obscenely wet. There isn’t enough girth to fill his mouth. From Thor’s low rumble, he does not mind.

They’re way past the days when Rocket questioned what Thor wanted out of this arrangement. For whatever crazy reason, Thor still wants this. Rocket does not doubt the groans muffled in his thighs or the enthusiasm of Thor's hand between his own legs.

Thor’s face is warm. He pulls back for a breath, cheek rasping against Rocket’s leg. His lips leave a wet kiss on Rocket's thigh. Rocket’s prick waits, red and slick. A part of him wants to scream. The other part wants to touch Thor’s face, his hair, whatever he can reach, and never stop. A whole year away from _this_? What was Rocket thinking?

Rocket’s cock disappears behind Thor’s lips again. “Fuck.” Rocket’s voice comes out three octaves too high. “Want to - _god_ \- want to see you, Thunder, c’mon.”

Thor manages a smile with his mouth full. It’s the hottest thing Rocket has ever seen. And he’s seen plenty of hot stuff, most of it with Thor.

As asked, Thor shifts, presenting Rocket with a full view of the hand around his cock. He drags a thumb over himself, smearing early release into his skin. Rocket shudders. He’s melting all over again, body pulsing out of control. Thor is too good at sucking him off. He's always been too good, it's like he has a manual on how to get Rocket off just right every time.

Rocket doesn’t want to end yet. Not before Thor. But everything is blurry, and Rocket can't catch his breath. It's been too long. Sure, Rocket could have looked for sex at one of the many hubs his crew used for stopovers. There are plenty of places adventurous enough for a thing like Rocket to do pretty good.

Rocket never made Thor any promises, and he never asked for any back. But Rocket never looked. Never even felt tempted. And it’s all pent up, bursting from his pores, splitting him open wider than he’s ever been.

Thor’s name slurs off Rocket's tongue right before the world smears out of focus. It’s like Rocket has a knife in his gut. Sensation unfurls from his ears to his toes. He dry-shudders, fists buried in Thor’s hair. Hollow-cheeked pulls make Rocket fall apart. Rocket feels like he's made of water, dribbling uselessly all over Thor’s bed.

Rocket is too heavy to move. His head sinks, eyes lolled behind their lids.

He blinks at Thor, whose open mouth hovers above his belly. Hard breaths gust down Rocket's softening prick. His good eye squeezes shut, mouth drawn back in a snarl. Down the bed, his hips jut into his own hand. His lower back flexes, and his ass pulls in tight. Thor makes a quiet sound, brow wrinkled, face flushed.

He relaxes in a minute, the tension drained from his body. Thor turns into a sprawl of limbs, heavy forehead on Rocket’s stomach.

Tired, a little emotional, Rocket traces fingers down Thor’s cheek. He’s met with a kiss pressed into the flat of his palm. “Missed you,” Thor rasps.

Rocket’s heart shudders in his chest. He snorts, covering himself. “You made me mess up my pants,” he mumbles.

Thor grins against Rocket’s belly. “What a shame,” he says. “I suppose you’ll have to stay until your garments dry. I would lend you something if we were anywhere near the same size-”

“Shut up,” Rocket mutters, yawning. “C’mere.”

Thor reaches back just long enough to withdraw his knitted blanket from the foot of the bed. As Thor stretches it over them, Rocket is too tired to harp on him for turning domestic. Rocket nestles into Thor's chest as soon as he's on his back.

“You’ll stay a few days?” Thor asks.

Rocket takes in the pensive softness of Thor’s face. He sighs. “Yeah. Then we gotta make a run up to Contraxia.”

Thor chuckles. “No run-ins with the one whose eye you stole, I hope.”

Oh yeah, that jerk. Rocket smirks. “I don't know, could be fun,” he says.

“Mmm.” Thor scritches Rocket’s back. A sleepy calm pours through Rocket’s bones. It feels so natural to be with Thor, like no time has passed at all.

Rocket still remembers the first time they got together, late one night in Wakanda. Rocket opened his bunk door to a dripping Thor. Outside, a storm raged. Thunder shook the palace, and lightning pierced the few trees left along the border. Thor asked to stay with a shake in his voice. Rocket couldn’t bring himself to say no.

He marveled that night, as Thor fell into an uncomfortable sleep, at how good they fit against each other. It shouldn’t have worked, a thing like Thor with a thing like him. But it did. It still does. The only thing that doesn’t fit is their lives.

“I’ll come more often,” Rocket promises.

Thor presses lips to the top of his head. “You have your crew, Rabbit,” he says, “and many adventures to come. The stars hold much for you.”

“But not for you, huh?”

The remark draws a smile. “I lusted for them once, but I cannot leave my people again.” Thor combs fingers down Rocket’s back. “I’m not sure I would even if I could.”

It’s right. Rocket knows it is, even as his chest gives a painful squeeze. “I’ll come more often,” Rocket tells him again.

“You're always welcome, my friend.” Thor cups the back of Rocket’s neck. “This is your home too, whenever you desire it.”

Rocket has never had a real home before. After all the years, all the hell, Rocket doesn't mind the idea.

*The End*


End file.
